


Us Three

by Meeralith



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms
Genre: Adventure, Gen, unlikely friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:13:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meeralith/pseuds/Meeralith
Summary: A Drow, a Mind Flayer and a Beholder stumble into befriending each other. Hilarity ensues. And also tragedy.





	1. Chapter 1

Mind Flayer was rather young, had barely reached maturity when it happened. When the intruder failed to slip past their radar.  
With deadly precision, they struck the creature’s mind, expecting to stun them immediately and be done with the incident, but that didn’t happen. At all.  
The pressure from Flayer’s attack undoubtedly caused the target pain, they saw the elf wince and shrink away slightly. they saw their nose bleed from the assault on their brain, saw them stagger but then…

Flayer saw them recover, spin their blades in their hands, and start their next attack.  
Taken off guard, half distracted, fascinated by this unfamiliar resistance, Flayer failed to evade. A sharp pain elicited a high-pitched noise from them - the elf had sliced one of their tentacles off, leaving only about a third still attached.

Eyes gleaming with something Flayer could only read as refusal to submit, the elf stepped on the appendage they cut off, crushing it under their heel.

Flayer’s wound was bleeding profusely. This was bad. They needed to end this, before the blood loss could seriously impede their ability to defend themself. Clutching their severed tentacle with one hand, they threw the other one up, flinging their attacker to the ceiling with a blast of telekinetic energy.  
The elf didn’t scream, rather gasped harshly when they collided with the ceiling, and once more, when Flayer released them, and let them fall to the ground again.  
A trickle of blood crept forth from underneath their hairline, and dripped off their nosetip. The impact had cracked their skull.

And yet, they still refused to surrender.  
Without losing a single second, they shot to their feet, and charged at Flayer, knocking them off their feet, and forcing them onto their back.  
Flayer was almost feeling the dagger rip tissue, when the elf suddenly went limp.

One of their many siblings had intervened, and finally stunned the creature, as it was focusing entirely on Flayer, unable to brace themself.

 

____________________________________

 

Flayer had always been the odd one out. Strong enough to have survived the cutthroat-survival struggle in their brime pool, smart enough to have lived a few years, but never .. entirely the way a Mind Flayer was supposed to be.  
They didn’t only want to know. They wanted to understand.

“Why don’t you just eat my brain and find out?” The Elf responded to their inquiry, bitterness and scorn in their voice.  
Flayer, standing in front of their miniscule cell, shook their head.  
“Because it’s not the same.” they denied.

They wanted to hear them speak, hear their tone shift as they explained. It was so much more intriguing to let someone tell their story, as opposed to literally consuming it in one go, and being done with it.  
Flayer didn’t see an amalgamation of information to be claimed, they indeed saw a person to be understood.

“You’re not making any sense.” the Elf accused them.  
“I don’t care about making sense.” Flayer earnestly replied.

“Well,” the Elf gave in. “if you must know - I’m not here because I want to be.”  
“Why else would you be here? Don’t you have free will?” Flayer asked.  
“Yes, I do, but it’s not that simple.” the Elf crossed their arms. “My mother has a position of political influence, and she hates me. She wanted to mold me into something she deems… right. She wanted me to be what I’m supposed to, not what I want to be. I refused. I resisted. I am the personification of the only thing she can’t have. I’m the only one who doesn’t give her what she wants.”

Flayer’s mind was rapidly bringing up about every bit of knowledge they had about the dark elves, and applied the elf’s statements to it, trying to make sense of it.

“But, I’m an excellent hunter. I’m a deadly assassin. People like me for my combat prowess, and I’ve made a name for myself. She can’t just kill me, not without endangering her own influence.” they continued. “So, they sent me on a heroic mission, to destroy your colony. Best case? I die, and she gets to mourn me in public, garnering even more influence, as the mother of a tragic hero wo sacrificed themself for the good of all. Worst case? I succeed, and rid our town of one of the greatest threats in our nearer proximity. I couldn’t refuse, as cowardice would’ve enabled her to kill me without any plots and ploys.”

“Then where’s the difference? Her killing you would likely be less painful than dying to one of my kind.” Flayer prodded.

The Elf produced a sharp sound by exhaling through their teeth.  
“I’m not giving her that satisfaction.” they hissed. “If I have to die, I’ll die by my own accord. Even if that means agony. At least I get to keep my pride.”  
“Pride…”

The elf eventually got up, as far as the tiny cage allowed them to.  
“Now, I told you why I’m here. Let’s get it over with, shall we?” they pointed at their head. “Need me to part my hair or something? I’ll make it easy for you.”

Flayer took a moment to stare at them intently.  
“I don’t want to kill you.” they finally stated. “In fact, I don’t want you to die.”  
“What? Why not? Did you have dinner already, or what is this about?” The elf seemed rather nonchalant about the idea of having their brain eaten.

“That’s not what I mean.” It was rare for Flayer to actually have a verbal conversation with someone, thus, they struggled to express what they wanted them to know. “You’re odd. You’re strong. Had my kin not interfered, you would have killed me back there. You beat me.”

“So? I admit, I was expecting that to make you angry above all else.” the elf sat back down as they spoke.  
“No. It intrigues me.” Flayer said, clasping their clawed hands together. “I… I hate this place. How secluded it is. I tire of learning through the memories of others. I don’t want to learn about the world, I want to see it. I want to live it. Nothing is more valuable than a first-hand experience. But I may never have that, if I remain here. You. You’re the first creature who hasn’t shown a single sliver of fear.”

Flayer continued speaking, as they saw a spark of light in the elf’s eyes. A flame, even.  
“Let me travel with you. Let me see this world, as it truly is.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Elf barely weighed anything, at least to Flayer. They had stunned them, voluntarily, and snuck them out of the colony safely.  
Careful not to furtherly harm them, Flayer set the Elf down on the ground, and lifted the stun from them.  
“We’re out.” they announced, as consciousness returned to the Elf.  
“Ah.” the Elf grinned a bit. “You actually kept your word.”  
“Did you expect me to kill you as soon as I had you under my control?” Flayer couldn’t help but sound a little bit sarcastic. “After offering your brain to me, without resistance? Why would I go out of my way to decieve you, if I could’ve just fed on you like that?”

“Good point.” Elf admitted, while they rubbed the dried blood off their forehead. “Forgive me. Mistrust is something ingrained into my people’s culture. It’ll be hard to let go of it.”  
“Make no mention of it.” Flayer knelt down next to them, intending to let them recover from the long stun before moving on. “Where’s the next access to the surface?”

“Behind my hometown. But it’s allright. I need to tie up some loose ends there anyway.” the Elf sat up.  
“Such as?”  
“Such as burning the place to the ground.”

The sharpness in their voice made the half-healed wound on Flayer’s face sting.  
“You want to kill your own kind?” they inquired, half impressed, half in disbelief.  
“Yes. the Drow’ve done nothing but to hold me back and hurt me. Especially the priesthood. Especially my mother.” they replied, sounding ice cold. “I have five sisters, and all of them are mere puppets. They kill for this sorry excuse of a deity we’re apparently supposed to follow, sometimes just for fun. I hate my people. Every last one of them.”

Silence fell, at least for a moment, while Flayer glared at their new companion, attempting to read their expression.  
“Besides,” they added, “if my House finds out I not only failed my mission and deserted, but also befriended one of our mortal enemies, they’ll never stop hunting us down. It’s best if we kill everyone who knows me.”

“Fair enough. How do we go about it? Neither of us have enough power to take on an entire settlement, no?” Flayer pretended to give in, but in reality, they never actually opposed the Elf’s plans.  
“Everything has a weak spot.” the Elf stated cryptically. “Trust me. I trusted you too.”

_________________________________________________________________

 

Having had the Elf take the lead, Flayer and them made their way into the city undetected. The Elf wasn’t only a master of stealth, they also knew every nook and cranny of this structure, navigated it without even having to think about it.

They’d lead Flayer into the deeper, more secured, more fortified areas of the city, and finally rose their hand to signal them to stop.  
They were in a low corridor, full of magical traps, all of which the Elf effortlessly disarmed.

“This is the town’s weak spot.” they finally cared to explain. “They’re holding an incredibly powerful creature prisoner here. And this creature will have every reason to raze this place to the ground once we free it.”  
“You’re an elf.” Flayer reminded them. “How can you be certain it won’t turn on you?”  
“How can you be certain I won’t bury my dagger in your back the next time you turn around?” they countered, smirking mischievously, and began making their way down to the door at the end of the corridor.

Flayer felt their own heart skip a beat at the Elf opened the door.  
“A Beholder?” they whispered, barely audible.

The creature was locked in a cell that took up about half of the room. It was blindfolded, and had several, painful looking scars on their spherical body. When Flayer and Elf entered, it barely reacted.  
“They clipped its wings.” the Elf explained. “Cursed it, made it unable to dream. It can’t change itself, or anything with their dreams anymore. It’s about the worst thing you can do to a Beholder, apart from blinding it.”

“Came sightseeing, Elf?” the Beholder finally spoke, still without bothering to turn around. “Came to laugh at my misery?”  
“In fact, no.” the Elf calmly denied. “I’ve come to free you.”  
“Another cruel joke, or just idiocy?” Beholder chuckled joylessly. “I’ll destroy this place if you let me out of here. There’ll be nothing left of your oh-so-proud town.”  
“I’m counting on that, yes.” the Elf’s tone was still dissonant to the tense situation, too calm.  
“What?” the Beholder didn’t seen to have anything else to say in response to that.  
“I want this place to burn.” the Elf explained. “I want to be free of it, just like you. I’ll help you, and you can take your revenge, and mine. It’s a win-win-win for both of us.”

The Beholder trembled visibly, when the Elf opened the cell, and stepped closer.  
“If you are tricking me, Elf-…” 

“You’ll fry me alive. I know.”   
Their dagger made quick work of the bandage hiding the main eye. It anxiously followed the Elf’s movements, as they freed each eyestalk of its blindfold. As soon as every eye was free, the Beholder shot a seething hot ray at the ceiling, and rose up through the hole they’d torn.

“I’d run if I were you,” they advised, looking down on Flayer and Elf. “As soon as I leave this building, I won’t hold back.”


	3. Chapter 3

“This could have ended awfully.” Flayer pointed out, for the third time now. Them and the Elf were making their way through a tunnel, steadily rising to meet the surface. According to the Elf, this used to be an escape route for Drow slaves and rebels alike - as well as themself.

“You may have mentioned that, yes.” they responded. “But here’s the deal - it didn’t. We made it out, didn’t we?”  
Flayer made a displeases noise, and pointed at the scorched seam of their cloak.  
“Barely.” they added.  
“Oh come on, it’s not like you were burning to death. You just smell a bit funny now.” Elf ended their sentence abruptly, stumbled, and had to hold on to the walls.  
Flayer reflexively extended both hands, as if to catch their unlikely companion.  
“Can you go on?” they asked, failing to have their voice reflect their concern.  
“I don’t know.” the Elf replied. “Might need a break. Room’s spinning.”

Flayer’s gaze lingered on the dried blood still sticking to the Elf’s forehead.  
“You have a concussion, if not worse.” they informed.  
“Well, I know whose fault that is.” the Elf hissed.  
“You cut off one of my tentacles!” Flayer defended themself.  
“I wouldn’t have needed to, hadn’t you tried to kill me!”  
“I wouldn’t have tried to kill you, if you hadn’t infiltrated my colony!”

Elf made groaned loudly.  
“This isn’t going anywhere.” they backed down.  
“You started assigning blame.” Flayer reminded them.  
“That’s because I can’t think straight. I have a crack in my skull, thank you very much.” And they were confrontational again. Flayer sat down on the ground, facing them.

“You should rest.” they recommended. “You’re rather light. I can carry you, if need be.”  
“Once is enough for me, no thanks.” they replied. “I’ll be allright.”  
“No, you won’t. You need treatment, because this is not going to get better by itself.” Flayer lectured them.  
“Uh-huh. In case you haven’t noticed, neither of us belong to very popular races up on the surface.” Elf’s voice still sounded sharp and cold. “No healer will give a damn about me up there. I’ll have to walk it off.”  
“You cannot.” Flayer almost sounded like an annoyed parent talking to a stubborn child. “I can fix it, but I doubt you’ll trust me enough to allow me to.”  
“Pal, I let you knock me out and carry me around for half an hour, what makes you think I wouldn’t trust you?” Elf countered.  
“The fact that you were surprised I didn’t kill you when you woke up.”

They fell silent. Apparently, they didn’t have anything to refute that. Flayer studied their expression, but failed to read it. For all they knew, the Elf’s face was completely blank, and tapping into their mind seemed a tad disrespectful, aside from not really helping their case either.

“Whatever you’re planning, you shouldn’t do it here. We’re still in the underdark, and with our current deserter-arsonist status, we shouldn’t push our luck.” Elf finally spoke. “I think I can continue walking now.”  
“Any pain?” Flayer asked.  
“Oh, I feel like my head’s splitting, but otherwise I’m completely fine.”  
“It is splitting, actually.”  
“Thanks.”

Clenching their teeth to choke back a pained groan, Elf stood back up.  
“It’s not far. Just another hour, if we don’t take breaks.” they said, shoving Flayer’s helping hand away. “I said I was fine.”

________________________________________________________________

 

Thankfully for the two underdark denizens, it was night outside when they reached the surface.  
The escape route had ended in an inconspicuous looking cave system, in the middle of a thick forest, so it was well hidden from curious surface dwellers. Elf had explained that they’d used this access to do business with surface dwellers, mostly criminals, on the way up.

“We should be fine now.” they exclaimed, sighing in relief. “No one’s ever followed me here, so we might as well set up a temporary base here.”

Flayer nodded. The cave entrance shielded them against the weather, the sun, and, if they played it smart, potential attackers, raiders or wild animals. As a, as Elf had said, temporary base, it was ideal.

“Are there any settlements closeby?” they inquired.  
“I suppose so. I mean, my clients usually didn’t look like they traveled very far, so there must be some semblance of civilization nearby. Why do you ask?” they responded.  
“I need to eat, and I reckon you don’t want me to eat you, contrary to previous statements on the matter.” Flayer reminded them. “Not soon, no need to worry, but evetually, I will require sustenance.”  
“It might surprise you, but us Drow also eat things. Not brains, but things. I can live off the forest for a while, but only for a while.” Elf said. They had sat down again, looking rather spent.  
“Head wounds tend to bleed heavily.” Flayer stated, gesturing at the Drow’s head. It looked bad, maybe even worse than it was, as their white hair contrasted the blood harshly. Almost their entire scalp was dyed red.

“Right. That.” Elf huffed. “I guess I’ll have to fall back on your offer, then. What… exactly would you do to me?”  
“You’re not going to like it.” Flayer warned. “I am able to secrete a type of carapace that hardens quickly, and seals the crack in your skull. Since I can only secrete that from my tentacles, it’d require you to let me very close to your brain. I can’t imagine you’d like that.”  
“Can’t say I would.” Elf responded. “It sounds uncomfortable, and also disgusting, but I suppose it’s the best treatment I can hope for right now.”  
“It is.”

Elf seemed to take a good look at Flayer’s tentacles and eventually sighed.  
“Well, let’s get it over with, shall we?”  
“Sit still.” Flayer instructed, very well aware of the shiver that ran through the Elf’s body when they positioned themself behind them. They wondered, would Elf really have surrendered their life that easily?

“Hurry up.” they urged, obviously very uncomfortable.  
“I can’t hurry. This is practically surgery. So be quiet and hold still.” Flayer commanded, suddenly sounding very insistent, and wiped the blood-soaked hair from the wound. They felt the Elf shrink away from their touch. “Don’t move.”  
It was obvious that Elf wanted to respond with a snippy comment, but they stopped themself from doing so, a decision Flayer was most appreciative of.

Finally, they got to work, slowly, and carefully tracing the cut, periodically filling it up with carapace.  
This was odd, not only for the Elf. Flayer used both hands to keep their patient’s head still, something they normally only did when feeding. They’d never been this close to someone for any other purpose, let alone to mend damage they’d inflicted. It felt like a crime against nature not to devour this Elf’s brain right now, and technically, it was.  
Normally, this Carapace was only used to fix damages on newborn Mindflayers, caused by Tadpoles on the host’s skull. This was absolutely not the intended purpose, and despite the sheer weirdness of this situation, Flayer didn’t regret it at all. This was part of their new life. A life they’d wanted for a long time.

After what felt like an eternity to the Elf, they let go of them.  
“I can’t help with the bleeding, but that’ll likely stop soon.” they informed, and stepped away from the Drow.  
And the Drow looked almost worse than before. 

“That was awful, and I never want to experience it again.” they expressed their feelings.   
“You won’t, unless you decide to get your cranium cracked again anytime soon.” Flayer spoke, while wiping the blood off their tentacles.   
“That’s not something I do recreationally, no.” the Elf said, then their tone shifted a bit. “Thank you, though. Also for the whole not eating me part.”  
“Make no mention of it. As far as I’m concerned, we’re companions now. And companions look out for one another, do they not?”

“How… do you even know how things like that work-… wait, don’t tell me, I just answered my own question.” Elf leaned back. “I’ll try to sleep. It’s been a long day.”  
“Do that.” Flayer said, after decding not to offer another psionic blast to help them sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

“The wound's already scabbed.” Flayer's sudden remark ripped Elf from their thoughts.  
Immediately, their hand jerked to their head, lightly touching the long split.  
“Yeah,” they agreed. “Yeah, it is.”  
Elf eyed the Illithid, unsure what to say. They had already thanked them, after all, and any repetition would … overdo it.  
The dark was slowly fading, the sun rose over the forest. The transition to daylight would be gentle for them. Trees, their cave... they had plenty of cover from the light, and could expose themselves step by step.  
It'd been hours of silence.  
Elf had tried to fall asleep, but their instincts as a former Drow Huntress wouldn't let them.   
'DANGER!' that one, persistent voice continued to scream in their head, regardless of their intentions to trust Flayer. So, Elf stayed awake. Vigilant.

And the silence was very uncomfortable.  
Within a few hours, both of them had completely burnt the bridges to their past lives, and now, they were alone with each other, in a foreign, hostile world.  
This was different from Elf's past excursions to the surface. This was no temporary mercenary job, no assassination, no quick trade to be carried out. They had nothing to fall back to, no one to watch their back.  
Nothing. Except for this Illithid.

“Does it hurt badly?” Flayer asked, obviously trying to keep the conversation alive.  
“I'll manage.” Elf responded, sounding a bit distant, more than they'd intended. “Why do you ask?” they added, to soften their first response.  
“When you were little,” Flayer responded, speaking slowly, as if they were carefully choosing their words. “You would do this to you youngest sibling. You cared for her, and you would fuss over every single injury, no matter how small.”  
“You rummaged through my memories when I was out cold, didn't you?” Elf sighed, not even offended by this violation of privacy. They were traveling with a psionic brain eater, after all.  
“I did. Curiosity has always been my biggest weakness. Does it bother you?” Flayer admitted.  
“Not in particular, actually. I thought it'd bother me, but it really doesn't.” Elf pulled their knees closer to their torso, and wrapped their arms around their legs. “I do wonder when you did that – before or after I agreed to travel with you?”

“Before.” Flayer replied. “I was too busy smuggling you out the colony afterwards. In fact, I was looking for the reason you infiltrated us, and information on whether or not you damaged anything. But, I got distracted, and ended up somewhere in your childhood instead. Pardon that.”

“So, you mimic the way I treated my little sister,... for what reason, specifically?” Elf asked.  
“No, you misunderstand.” Flayer had actually raised both hands, a defensive gesture. “I'm not trying to mimic anything, I brought this up because it's the closest thing I can compare my reasons to.”  
“You mean to say, you care about my wellbeing, because you care about me?”  
“Simplified, yes.”

Elf let out a hoarse chuckle.  
“You know, I never thought I'd end up having a freaking Illithid genuinely care about whether or not I'm in pain.”  
Flayer's face had little room for expression, but Elf believed to see a subtle shift regardless.  
“My kind isn't emotionless. What prevents most from doing what I did,... How do I explain this.” They paused for a moment, clasping their hands together. “We do crave warmth, and anything that any other creature experiences firsthand. But we get those things from devouring memories of such things. But for me, that's not enough.”

“Huh.”  
Elf couldn't help but feel a slight bit of guilt, for having – they couldn't believe they were articulating this in their mind – generalized Illithids.  
Falling silent yet again, Flayer turned away and looked up at the sky.   
This felt unreal, to Elf, and especially for Flayer. Everything was possible, the good and the bad, and nothing was certain. A strange sense of freedom, but also fear was in the air.

Flayer looked at their hand, how the dawn's light made it appear pink, instead of the usual pale mauve. It was real, realer than ever. Everything, the way the light tinted the colors, the soft breeze of the wind, the vibrant green of the forest, brimming with life, made this feel visceral.   
For a brief time, Flayer was granted a moment to ponder this.

Then, the quiet was rudely interrupted again.

“Thought I'd find you here. You haven't eaten the Elf yet?”

Both shot to their feet immediately, ready to defend themselves, but Elf quickly lowered their daggers again.  
“Ah.” they just sighed.  
It was the Beholder they'd freed and set loose on the Drow city, still rugged and covered in wounds, but now also smelling like ashes and burnt flesh.

“Of course not.” Flayer responded, sounding almost offended at the notion.  
“How boring. Unexpected, but boring.” Beholder huffed, and slowly floated to the ground, settling in between the two of them. “Now, what's the plan? You're just going to live off sunshine and rainbows, out here in the wilderness?”  
“You make that sound like a bad thing.” Elf snidely commented.  
“The Elf's wounded. I'm waiting for them to recover. Until then, making plans has hardly any benefit.” the Illithid explained.  
“Wounded? Ah. I see. Did you try to eat them, or...?”

“No, they flung me against the ceiling.” Elf replied in Flayer's stead, sick of being talked about, as opposed to talked to.  
“Ah. Also boring.” Beholder said. “I hope you're aware that everyone you love is dead.”  
“Look, I don't know why you thought I specifically asked you to burn my hometown to cinders, but I can assure you, it's not because I love it so much.” Elf sounded snippy again.  
“Ooh. Family issues, I suppose? Well, glad to be of service.” Beholder winked – with one of the eyestalks.  
“Good riddance.” Elf said, because they were not going to thank this creature.

“In any case, I don't have much going for myself anymore, thanks to what your people did to me. I'm going to stick around.” Beholder informed them, rather than asking. “You'll thank me later. I'm a tremendous advantage to have as a companion.”  
“Oh, you're already such a pleasure to speak to.” Flayer chimed in, their usually rather neutral voice now dripping with sarcasm.  
“And so modest, too!” Elf agreed, feeling a hint of companionship to the Illithid. If a common annoyance was what it'd take to have themselves warm up to them, then it'd just have to be that way.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, as my prediction goes – you two need something to do. A common goal, so to speak, a goal that goes beyond 'being alive'. Otherwise, that shaky alliance will crumble sooner than you think.”the Beholder closed their rather lengthy explanation.

“Huh.” said Elf.  
“Yes. Huh. Thus, I suggest, you two get into the mercenary business. Easy work, for airheads such as yourselves, good pay, and enough action to keep you simpletons occupied.” they continued, ignoring the death glare the Illithid shot them.

“There is one fatal flaw in your master plan.” the Illithid eventually interrupted, as Beholder was about to continue rambling. “The Elf might be able to connect with townsfolk, and look for work, but I cannot. They'll panic as soon as they see me.”  
“Obviously. You're disgusting, after all!” Beholder agreed, earning another angry stare. “But, I wouldn't be my brilliant self if I didn't have a solution for you!”  
“Do you now.” Flayer almost growled.  
“I do! A few miles to the west, a tiny village was ravaged by a highly contagious disease recently. Everyone died.”  
“Fun.” commented Elf.  
“I wasn't done yet!” Beholder hissed at them. “Since the healers are also dead, they left their equipment behind. Including their plague masks. You know. The ones with large beaks. Large enough to stuff all those gross tentacles into.”

“That's an awful idea.” Flayer protested. “If the previous holders died to a highly infectious disease, why should I decide to wear those masks?”  
“Oh, don't be like that. We can decontaminate them.” Beholder said, sounding almost a bit annoyed. “Trust me. It's a great idea. It'll be your signature item! Gives you character, personality!”  
“I have... a personality.”  
“Yes, an awful one. It'll be an improvement, believe me.”

Elf flinched, feeling a sudden intrusion into their mind, and hastily locked eyes with Flayer, who was staring intently at them.  
“I would suck this creature's brains out, if I wasn't so worried it'd make me sick.” their voice echoed through Elf's brain.   
A quick glance at the Beholder explained it – blissfully unaware, and very full of themselves, they floated there, looking at the both of them contently. Only Elf had been able to hear that statement.. The Illithid was basically whispering to them, and Elf smirked.  
That whole 'bonding over mutual dislike' idea they'd had seemed to be working.

“Fine.” the Illithid spoke, to both of them this time, “I'll go and fetch your stupid mask. If it'll make you shut up for a while.”  
“You'll thank me later.”  
“I wouldn't count on that.”

____________________

“This is beyond uncomfortable.” the Illithid whispered to Elf again. Their voice sounded perfectly clear, even though half their face was stuffed into the mask's beak, solidifying Elf's suspicions that they'd been speaking directly into their mind this entire time.

“Does it-... I mean, ...” Elf paused, and elected to restart their sentence. “Does it make the, you know... the wound worse?”  
“Am I hearing a slight, guilty undertone?” the Illithid asked, their voice sounded uncharacteristically playful.  
“Maybe. I mean, you said it yourself, we're companions now. You worried for me, now I worry for you.” Elf replied, not entirely ready to own up to their guilt.  
“Well then.” Flayer seemed to grin, even though they didn't have the facial features necessary for that. “To answer your question, yes. Yes it hurts. Badly.”  
“I'm a bit concerned about the mask itself, actually. I mean,... is the wound closed? Squeezing an open wound against something we decontaminated by boiling it over a fire seems... bad.”

Flayer flicked the mask's beak with one finger.  
“I'm pretty sure it's safe in that regard. But, the pressure does make the scab crack open again. I think I already feel blood.”  
“Oh.” Elf imagined a conversation with a stranger coming to an abrupt stop, because their attaché had begun leaking purple goo from their spooky Plague Doctor mask. “That's... bad.”  
“I'll be fine. We can buy some medical supplies when we reach the town.” the Illithid assured. “That brings to me to another issue, actually.”  
“Yes?”  
“Names.”

Elf looked up.  
“Names?”  
“Yes. If we're to regularly interact with other people, we need names. I shed my original one, to symbolically break with my colony, but I can take up a new one, if need be. A name that'd immediately out me as a Mind Flayer would make the Beholder's oh-so-brilliant idea with that awful mask rather redundant, too.” the Illithid explained their concerns. “But I reckon you have a perfectly good name, yes?”

“I do, but I hate it.” Elf responded. “It'd be Cepharinayie Villynia Tlin'Ael, full name. Half the surface's population would probably tie a knot into their tongues trying to pronounce that. It's also, so... so feminine.”  
“You could shorten it?” Flayer suggested.  
“To.. what?”  
“To... How about 'Ceph'? Simple, short, and rather neutral.”

Elf frowned.  
“Ceph, Ceph... Hmm. Does roll off the tongue easily.” they pondered. “I suppose I could go by that, yes. Leaves just you, then.”  
“I'd hoped for more resistance regarding that suggestion. Now I actually have to think about my new name.” Flayer admitted, making Ceph involuntarily grin.  
“Well,... What was your previous name? Maybe it can be shortened too.”  
“It was pretty short to begin with, and... I really don't want any keepsakes from my past, if you understand what I mean.” they rejected.  
“How about something about the mask, then? Beholder already said it could become some sort of signature item, so might as well base your persona around it, right?”  
“Interesting idea, granted. But, how? Should I name myself after the disease?” the Illithid asked. “Seems rather counterproductive, regarding building a reputation.”

“I was more thinking about the Plague Doctor bit. How about,... Doc?”  
“I worry that people might expect a medical certificate from me, then.”

Ceph chuckled a little. This Illithid was beginning to charm them.  
“It'd be obvious that it's a persona. Gives you that intriguing air of mystery-... Argh, don't do that!”  
The Illithid had wriggled a tentacle free, and left it poking out one of the eye-holes. Ceph felt them giggle.  
“You have no idea how restricting this contraption is.” they complained.  
“And you have no idea how creepy this looks. Put that back where it came from, or so help me!” Ceph cringed once more, watching the tentacle slowly retreat back into the mask, moving as if it was a separate entity.  
“If this scares you that much, may I just remind you that I used these to inject liquid carapace into your skull?” Doc reminded them, and Ceph was positive they were just trying to mess with them at this rate.  
“Yes, I do, thanks for reminding me of this deeply disturbing experience!” they hissed,   
“Oh, please. Was it that bad?”

Ceph stopped abruptly, making the Illithid actually turn around to face them again.  
“Ceph?” they asked, now entirely serious again.  
“I just-...” again, Ceph had to scrap their sentence. “This feels so unreal. I'm trained to be wary, and always expect an attack, even from people who wouldn't normally try to eat me, and, now I'm just... casually chatting with you, and-...”  
“And?”  
“-... and I'm not afraid of you.” Ceph finished. “In fact, I enjoy your company! And that freaks me out! How many Mind Flayers have I killed in my lifetime, writing them off as monsters? All of them had names, and feelings, and... a sense of humor, just like you. It messes me up!”

Doc crossed their arms, accidentally nudging the mask's beak, and thus, basically punching themself in the face.  
“I-... ack, darn it, I hate this thing.” they cussed. “As I was going to say, … I know. Think about it from my perspective: How many Drow have I … literally eaten, who might've been just like you? How many Drow have I fed on, who might've become my companions, as you have? Empathy is a very inconvenient thing to have for people like you, but for people like me? Even more so. It's just something the both of us will have to deal with.”  
“I'm sorry, I didn't expect this to, uh... impact you like that.” Ceph replied, a lot quieter this time, without exasperation. “This must be very tough for you. It's the first time you've been disconnected from your colony, isn't it?”

Again, Doc clasped their hands together, as they tended to do during serious conversations.  
“It is, yes. But, please don't think too much of it.” they said. “In the past few days, I've learned more than ever before in my life. Especially about myself, which is something my mind rarely bothers to explore. It's hard, yes, but it's also not all bad. I don't regret choosing to travel with you.”

Ceph was about to smile warmly, when Doc added: “Now, can we please move on? The sooner I get this abomination off my face, the better.”


End file.
